I’m not sure, but I think he might have come with me. The room grows quiet except for the sounds of our heavy breathing. As the pleasure starts to fade away, the reality of what I’ve done comes crashing down. A wave of shame fills me.
I pull on the cuffs again. “Please,” I beg. “Take them off.”
He lifts his head. “You’re crying.” His expression is pained.
“Take them off!” I scream in his face.
To my surprise, he springs up and quickly frees the cuffs from my wrists. His fingers try to trace over my wrists to inspect them, but I jerk them back. I’m not stupid. I know it’s not because I’m quick, but because he let me.
“Can I use the bathroom please?”
“Of course.” He motions for the door. I try to scurry off the bed, but when I stand, my knees start to give out. He catches me before I hit the floor. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he says as he rights me on my feet before dropping his arm from around me.
I don’t respond as I make a dash for the bathroom. Once inside, I lock the door behind me. It’s stupid. I know one kick from him is all it would take to open it.
“It didn’t matter if you were a cop or a fucking astronaut. All that matters is you’re mine,” Bruno says through the door. “And I know you’re not my pet. You’re so much more.” There is no missing the awe in his voice.
What is happening here? At times I feel so out of control and then at others I wonder if I do have some control. He confuses me, but maybe that’s what he wants: to toy with me before he shows me who he really is. That sends a shiver through me. I have to be smart. No more temporary insanity in his bed. This is a life or death situation, not a teenage basement party.
“Bruno?”
“Yes.”
“My cat Pikachu. Will you get him for me? He’s alone, and I’m worried about him.”
“Your cat?” He says the word ‘cat’ like he’s never used it before.
“Yes, he’s alone. There’s no one to feed him but me.”
“I’ll get him, but you’ll owe me a favor.”
I glare at the door even though he can’t see me. “Fine,” I huff while having the strange feeling he’s smiling right now.
It’s silly for him to want me to owe him a favor. He can take whatever he wants from me, but I’m starting to understand he wants me to give it to him. Maybe that’s his game.
Why does that scare me even more?
5
Bruno
Going back to that small town isn’t something I’d planned on. In fact, I already set a meeting with Ali about how I intended to track down and kill Massimo. But I suppose I’ll have to move that back.
I sigh as I pull up to a cute little pale green cottage just off the town’s main road. The flowers along the front walk are cheery, and the little birdbath by the front door is perfect for Officer Lovett. Something about the way she cares for animals seems so right.
Naturally, she has a cat. I’m not a big fan of pets, but if grabbing this cat will get me a favor from my captive, I’m happy to oblige.
Pushing her key into the door, I glance around to make sure no nosy neighbors are watching. I didn’t want to do this in the daylight, but time is of the essence for me. Both when it comes to Officer Lovett and when it concerns Massimo.
When I walk in, I’m met with the faint scent of her along with a mix of something sweet and fabric softener. It’s almost heady. Nothing in prison smelled even remotely as good as this. Fuck, I want this in a goddamn candle.
I close the door and look around for the cat.
“Here, kitty, kitty.” After I’ve said it, I realize my deep, booming voice might not be the best way to attract the animal.
I stride past a “pussy hotel” cardboard house in the hallway—and I note it’s been clawed to hell and gone. Damn. This cat must be enormous and have claws longer than my switchblade.
Easing down the hall into the kitchen, I find an adorable array of cat-themed hand towels and crockery. When Officer Lovett goes all in, she doesn’t leave any stone unturned. Even her coffeepot is in the shape of a cat, the handle being its tail.
Still no sign of Pikachu, though. Where is it? I return to the main hall and search the guest bedroom. Nothing, though I do find a cat carrier. I grab that. I move down to the end of the hall and into Officer Lovett’s bedroom.
I grab her pillow and press it to my face, inhaling her scent. Then I tuck it under my arm. She’ll sleep better at my place with her own pillow. Hell, I found myself missing my prison pillow last night, and if that isn’t a mindfuck, I don’t know what is.
Turning, I go to her dresser and open the top drawer. Jackpot. A neat row of panties are tucked inside, most of them pink. I grab a pair and put it to my nose. They smell like fabric softener. I stuff the pair into my pocket and go to her bathroom. This is the real jackpot—her clothes hamper.
I open the lid and dig around until I find a pair of her panties inside. When I bring these up to my nose, I smell her. Pure, unadulterated Officer Lovett. My cock springs to life, and I take another big inhale. Fuck, I want to put them in my mouth. I don’t, of course. I’m not an animal.
But I do lick them. And fuck, it makes something in my brain short circuit. Sweet and tangy, her pussy is mouthwatering.
I take a deep breath and remind myself I’m here on business, so I stuff that pair of panties into my other pocket, then turn to look for the cat.
I find him sitting at the foot of the bed, watching me with a reproachful look. He’s a gray tabby with yellow-green eyes, and I get the distinct impression he’s judging me for sniffing Officer Lovett’s unmentionables.
“Like you’ve never sniffed them.” I walk past him and grab the cat carrier, then place it on the bed. “Get in.”
He stares at me.
“In.” I gesture toward the carrier.
He doesn’t move.
At least I was wrong about him. He’s regular cat-sized, and I don’t see any monstrous claws on his feet.
I’ll have to grab him and put him in. He’s so small and fluffy.
This will be a piece of cake.
“Why is there blood?” Officer Lovett’s voice rises as I bring the cat carrier into my bedroom. “Are you hurt, Pikachu? Oh my God did you hurt my baby?” She screeches at me from where I have her tied to the bed. No more cuffs. She kept yanking at them and hurting her wrists. I can’t have that, so I used fabric strips instead.
“He’s fine,” I grumble as I drop the bag of supplies I grabbed then open the door for the monster to escape.
He runs out and jumps onto the bed, crawling into Officer Lovett’s lap and rubbing his face all over her.
I’m not jealous. That’s ridiculous. But he needs to stop fucking touching her.
“Here.” I walk over and hand her the pillow I snagged.
She’s cooing over the feline assassin in her lap. “Oh, my sweet boy. Did you hurt the mean man?”
I stride to the bathroom and wash the scratches along my forearms, then douse them with alcohol. A few bandages later, and I’m all good.
When I return to the bedroom, he’s curled in her lap, and I could swear he looks smug. “He can have free run of the house, but he’s not sleeping with us.”